Don't Forget to Read the Fine Print
by Dawn Firestorm
Summary: Dawn Sundance is an orphan, living at an orphanage where she is ridiculed by the Muggle children because she is a witch. All that changes when she meets Lord Voldemort himself.
1. The Newcomer

A girl of about 15 snuck closer to the old mansion, her feet barely making a sound as she crept through the overgrown brush and weeds. She had long, wavy, bright red hair, which was currently pulled back into an untidy ponytail, gray-blue eyes, and a tiny bit of freckles dotting her nose and cheeks.  
  
Closer and closer the girl crept, breathing heavily, pausing every few steps to listen. When she was sure no one was sneaking up on her, she moved on. Every tiny noise made her jump; she wished she hadn't come her in the first place.  
  
Then why was she there? It was all because of a little thing called pride. The boys at the orphanage the girl lived in had dared her to break into the old mansion and grab something to prove she had been there. Why? She had boasted that she wasn't afraid of anyone or anything, and she wasn't about to swallow her words.  
  
"I'll show them," she whispered. She was almost to the ivy-covered door. "Stupid little Muggle prats."  
  
Her breathing quickened as she approached the door; she could feel some sort of tingling on her skin, making the sparse hairs on her arms stand on end. She reached out a hand for the rusty doorknob, but a loud CRACK made her stop. She had stepped on a large branch in front of the door; the noise shattered the silence around her. Shaking, the girl stood still and listened for any kind of noise that would tell her if someone was coming up behind her. She heard one: a soft pop.  
  
Slowly, the girl turned around. A tall, cloaked figure was behind her. The tip of what looked like a wand was protruding from his right sleeve. The hood of the cloak hid the stranger's features.  
  
"Uh-oh," the girl said, staring up into the shadowed face.  
  
"You shouldn't be so nosy," said the hooded figure in a raspy voice. The cloak swished, and suddenly, the point of the wand was directed at the girl. She backed up into the wall, looking around. Should she run for it? She decided to take the chance. Run, she told her legs silently. Run! But her legs wouldn't move. The man said an incantation; a bright jet of red light shot out of the wand and hit the girl in the stomach. She slid down against the wall, unconscious.  
  
A few minutes later, the same hooded figure walked into a large room with the girl slumped over his shoulder.  
  
Even though it was daytime, torches placed around the walls were lit. They cast flickering shadows against the walls. The design of the room was strange, too. Golden serpent statues were placed around the perimeter of the room; their ruby eyes seemed to follow one everywhere. A red strip of carpet in the middle of the wooden floor led up to a huge golden throne, settled between two columns. The throne was made up of two snakes, each twining their way up the sides to twist their heads together at the top.  
  
A man was situated in the throne. His pale face had the strangest features. He had a thing line for a mouth, an almost flat nose with slits for nostrils, and snake-like red eyes, with pupils like a cat's. They were half closed, but they surveyed the girl with evil interest.  
  
The hooded figure stopped in front of the throne and deposited the girl on the ground. "I caught her sneaking around outside," he said roughly. "Could she be a spy?"  
  
"Let's ask her," said the man in the throne coolly. The hooded figure nodded and pulled out his wand. He said another incantation, and when the beam hit the girl, her eyelids fluttered. Slowly, she stood up to face the man in the throne. Her eyes widened in fear and excitement.  
  
"Lord Voldemort?" she said in disbelief. "I've heard rumors, but- they're true, aren't they?"  
  
"Of course," Voldemort said lazily. "Is that why you were sneaking around out there? To confirm the rumors?"  
  
"Oh, no, of course not," the girl said, thrown by the question.  
  
"Then were you spying for a certain Muggle-lover?" spat the Dark Lord.  
  
"No! I didn't have any idea you were even here!" the girl said defiantly.  
  
"So you were exploring around simply for the pleasure of it?"  
  
"No, sir," said the girl, clenching her fists. "The Muggles at the- the orphanage I live at dared me. They thought this place was abandoned."  
  
"You live at the orphanage?" asked Voldemort, eyes flashing.  
  
"Yes," the girl said bitterly. "I hate it there. They won't let me go to Hogwarts to be schooled; they have a witch home school me. And all the Muggles whisper about me to their friends; about how different and strange I am. No, I don't hate it there. I despise it."  
  
"I see," said Voldemort thoughtfully. "What's your name?"  
  
"Dawn," said the girl, still fuming. "Dawn Sundance."  
  
"Tell me, Dawn," said Voldemort, a possible idea forming in his mind, "would you do anything to get away from the orphanage?"  
  
Slowly, Dawn nodded. Did he mean what she thought he meant?  
  
"Hold out you left arm," Voldemort commanded. Dawn hesitated.  
  
"Sir, wouldn't that be the first place they would look for the Dark Mark if they suspected me?" she asked tentatively.  
  
"Then turn around and hold your hair to the left," Voldemort said. Dawn obeyed. She felt the tip of a knife pierce the skin on her right shoulder blade and blood running down her back. Then she felt the tip of Voldemort's wand; he said an odd incantation, and there was a burning pain on Dawn's shoulder. She winced and bit her lip, but didn't show her pain to the Dark Lord. If she revealed a weakness, he might decide otherwise and letting her become a Death Eater.  
  
The burning subsided, and Dawn released her hair. She turned to face Voldemort, her lord and master.  
  
"Welcome to the Death Eaters, Dawn," said Voldemort, putting his wand away. The knife was no where in sight. "You have now agreed to serve me and obey my orders. You will not let your personal feelings get in the way of carrying out an order."  
  
Dawn nodded without even hearing; she was too absorbed in her own thoughts. Finally, she'd get away from all those Muggles and the orphanage. And finally, finally she felt she'd found where she belonged. She'd wanted to just fit somewhere for as long as she could remember. She didn't want to be the one everyone pointed to and whispered to their friends about. It looked like Dawn would get what she wanted… at a price.  
  
"Go get your things from that orphanage," Voldemort said, shaking Dawn out of her thoughts. "You live here now."  
  
Dawn turned to go, but stopped. "Um, could you show me to the door? I was, you know, knocked out when I was brought up here." The hooded figure who had brought Dawn to Voldemort swept out in front of her. She quickened her step to follow him and didn't slow down until they reached the door.  
  
"Thanks," mumbled Dawn as she stepped out into the yard. She ran through the overgrown mass of plants, stopping when she heard voices.  
  
"She's got to have lost her way," said a boy.  
  
"Maybe she's chickened out," added another boy.  
  
Dawn fumed silently as she listened to them from behind a tree. After a few seconds, she got her temper under control and stepped out from her hiding place.  
  
"Hullo, boys," she said cheerfully. "Talking about me?"  
  
"As a matter of fact, we were," said the first boy. He had dirty blonde hair, a nose like a pig's, and dull brown eyes. This was Avery, the boy who'd dared her to sneak into the old mansion.  
  
"So did you break in, our dija chicken out?" jibed the second boy. He looked identical to Avery except he had many more freckles and was much shorter. This was Avery's kid brother, Jimmy. They were Muggles, and Dawn hated them both.  
  
"Well, I didn't break in, but I didn't chicken out," Dawn said simply.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Avery said stupidly.  
  
"Figure it out, dung-brains," Dawn said, walking towards the orphanage. Avery and Jimmy stepped in front of her.  
  
"You ain't going anywhere," Jimmy spat.  
  
"Don't make me hurt you, little girl," Dawn warned.  
  
"Don't you ever call me a girl!" Jimmy said indignantly. He charged at Dawn, but she stepped aside, letting Jimmy hit the tree behind her.  
  
"That's it," said Avery, balling up his fists. "You asked for it!"  
  
He swung at Dawn; she grabbed his fist and gave it a sharp twist. She pulled her other hand back and let it loose. It hit Avery in the eye, making him howl with pain and fall over.  
  
Jimmy roared with rage and ran at Dawn, arms swinging madly. Dawn yawned and thrust her fist into his stomach. Jimmy keeled over next to Avery, clutching his stomach.  
  
"Don't say I didn't warn you," said Dawn, dusting off her hands. Then she ran the block to the orphanage and flung the old wooden doors opened. She bounded up the stairs three at a time and thrust herself into the room she shared with five other girls, all of whom were extremely annoying.  
  
In seconds, Dawn had opened her trunk and thrown all of her things into it; her clothes, money, quills, ink bottles, rolls of parchment, books, and drawing supplies. She shut and secured the lid and took out her wand from the top drawer of her now empty desk. Pointing it at her trunk, she said, "Wingardium leviosa!"  
  
Her heavy trunk rose into the air and bobbed along behind her as she raced back to Voldemort's mansion. She passed Avery and Jimmy on the way; she made sure to tread on both of their stomachs as she made her way to the door of the mansion that was now her home.  
  
When Dawn reached the door, a hooded figure was standing outside of it. He motioned for her to follow him. She did so. He led her through the door, up a flight of stairs, and turned left at the landing. He opened the third door and stood back so Dawn could enter her new room.  
  
It was a huge room designed in the same style of the throne room. The four-poster canopy bed had snakes curling up the posts, holding up a corner of the canopy in their mouths. The large desk situated next to the bed had small snake figurines for handles on the drawers, as did the vanity, dresser, and nightstand. The main color of the room seemed to be a deep blood red; the curtains hanging over the archway to the balcony, the canopy over the bed, the sheets, pillowcases, and carpet were all red. Dawn felt in place with her bright red hair.  
  
Turning to the Death Eater that had led her up to her room, she asked, "Does he need me to do anything before I put away my things?"  
  
"Yes," said the Death Eater. "He wants you start on your training right away."  
  
Dawn, quite puzzled, lowered her trunk onto the floor at the foot of the four-poster and followed the Death Eater out of the room, wand still in hand. 


	2. Training

He led her back down the stairs and into another red, snake-designed room. It wasn't as homey as Dawn's room, but that was quite understandable. After all, instead of furniture, there were several pairs of rusty chains spaced around the walls and a huge, brownish-red splatter to Dawn's right. She gulped; it horribly resembled dried blood.  
  
"Um, okay," Dawn said, avoiding the stain, "so this is where I train?"  
  
"Inviting, isn't it?" said the Death Eater sarcastically.  
  
"Quite," said Dawn uncomfortably. "So, fill me in on this whole 'training' stuff. What, exactly, am I training for?"  
  
"Anything," said the Death Eater "Basically, you come down here for an hour each day to master the three Unforgivables and the Dark Mark incantation."  
  
"That's it?"  
  
"Only the start of it," said the Death Eater, chuckling at Dawn's horrified expression. "After that, you double your training time and come down here to perfect your dueling moves, then after that, you learn how to transfigure yourself into an effective disguise, but not like an Animagus."  
  
"And then?" Dawn asked, fearing what was next. She was starting to hate this room more every second.  
  
"Then you wait for your first order," said the Death Eater.  
  
"And who's going to train me for all this?"  
  
"Me," said the Death Eater.  
  
"Cool," said Dawn. She was beginning to like this guy. "So do I call you anything special?"  
  
"No," said the Death Eater. "You can call me by my name, Lucius."  
  
"'K, Lucius," said Dawn, fingering her wand. "When do we start?"  
  
"Right now," Lucius produced a small jar from the folds of his cloak. It contained one huge, hairy black spider. Dawn took a step back.  
  
"I… hate… spiders," Dawn breathed.   
  
"That's good," said Lucius. "It'll make it easier to use the Unforgivables on it. The more you hate something, the easier it is to use a curse on it."  
  
"If you say so," Dawn said. "Which one do I use first?"  
  
"The Imperious Curse," said Lucius, releasing the spider. Dawn gulped as she watched it scuttle around the floor. When it stopped in a corner, Dawn pointed her wand at it.  
  
"Im- Imperio!" she said. Instantly, the spider's body relaxed from it's tensed up position. Do the, um, can-can, Dawn commanded it silently.  
  
Slowly, very slowly, as if it were against the spider's better judgment, it raised itself on its two hind legs and started to do the can-can!  
  
"Wonderful!" exclaimed Lucius. Dawn lowered her wand and the spider fell to all eight legs, shaking. "Now try the Cruciatus Curse."  
  
The spider scuttled around again Dawn followed it with her wand until it stopped again. "Crucio," Dawn hissed.  
  
A jet of light shot out from her wand and struck the spider in its side. It keeled over on its back and started to twitch violently. Dawn felt a sort of savage triumph as she watched the spider rock from side to side. Then she lowered her wand; the spider shakily stood up, twitching.  
  
"Now the Killing Curse," said Lucius softly. Dawn raised her wand once more and directed it at the twitching spider.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" she yelled. A beam of green light shot out of her wand, accompanied by a sort of rushing sound. The light hit the spider, and suddenly, it wasn't twitching anymore. Then again, it wasn't doing anything anymore. It was dead.  
  
"There," said Dawn, wiping a strand of hair off her face. "Unforgivables- done. Let's move on to the—"  
  
"You're only half-way done with the Unforgivables," Lucius interrupted.  
  
"Only half-way?" Dawn said. "What else is there to do? I used all three of them successfully. Isn't that the aim?"  
  
"Yes," said Lucius, "but you used them on something you hated. Now you have to use them on something you love."  
  
Lucius pointed his wand at a medium sized pebble on the floor at his feet… only it wasn't a pebble anymore. Lucius had transfigured it into a white baby rabbit.  
  
"Why couldn't it have been a cat?" Dawn cried as she watched the rabbit wash his ears. "Or a dog?"  
  
"This will make you stronger," Lucius said. "Put aside your personal feelings."  
  
"Ok," Dawn sniffed, pointing her wand at the rabbit. "Imperio!"  
  
The rabbit stopped washing its ears and lay on his stomach, eyes closed. Hop around in a circle, Dawn told him silently. He did so, and Dawn lowered her wand.  
  
"Ooh, I'm going to hate myself tomorrow for this," Dawn whispered to herself, raising he wand once more. "Cru-Cru-Crucio!"  
  
Dawn shut her eyes tightly as the poor rabbit writhed and twisted on the ground. After a few seconds, she raised her wand and opened her eyes. The rabbit was panting heavily and cowering at the spot.  
  
"I'm sorry," Dawn said under her breath. She raised her wand for a third time. "Avada Kedavra."  
  
Another jet of bright green light shot out of Dawn's wand and hit the rabbit. His eyes went blank and his panting stopped. Dawn bit the inside of her bottom lip as the moisture in her eyes increased.  
  
"Very good," commented Lucius. "I don't think anyone has mastered the Unforgivables as fast as you have."  
  
"I'm a quick leaner," said Dawn flatly, looking away from the rabbit. "Can we move on now?"  
  
"Yes," said Lucius. "Now, we only have another half an hour left, so you not might be able to master the Dark Mark today."  
  
"Try me," Dawn said.  
  
"Alright," said Lucius. "The incantation is, 'morsmordre'."  
  
"Ok," said Dawn. "Morsmordre!"  
  
A pale something shot out of her wand.  
  
"It's not supposed to look like that, is it?" Dawn asked.  
  
"That's ok," said Lucius. "Try again."  
  
Dawn tried again, and again, and again. She tried for fifteen minutes, but she was having some trouble making the Dark Mark looks the way it was supposed to.  
  
"Maybe you should rest a while," suggested Lucius.   
  
"We still have fifteen minutes left!" Dawn protested. "Let me try again."  
  
"Alright."  
  
"Thanks," said Dawn, She raised her wand and bellowed, "MORSMORDRE!"  
  
A bright green shape emerged from Dawn's wand and rose up to the ceiling. It was a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth like a tongue. Dawn had finally conjured the Dark Mark.  
  
"Wonderful!" said Lucius. "You can go back to your room and unpack your things now. Tomorrow, meet me down here at 1 o'clock PM, so we can start on your second phase of training."  
  
Feeling exhausted but proud of herself, Dawn made her way through the empty halls of the mansion to her room. She unpacked her things silently, thinking. Just a few hours ago, she had been the loner, the one all the Muggles at the orphanage pulled their pranks on. But she was a Death Eater now, and it looked as though things would change.  
  
And, eventually, things would change. If only Dawn knew that they wouldn't be for the better. 


	3. Dueling

Dawn woke the next day to find a steaming bowl of oatmeal, a glass of orange juice, and two pieces of toast on a tray on the nightstand next to her bed. A glance at the old clock near the door told her she had slept in to 11:30.  
  
"11:30?" she exclaimed. "I must have been really tired yesterday."  
  
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes and yawning, Dawn threw the sheets off her. She gulped down her breakfast and tossed on a shirt and baggy jeans. While she starched, she wondered why Lord Voldemort had let her become a Death Eater. Not that she was complaining; she loved it here. It was just that, so far, she hadn't seen any other Death Eaters that were remotely close to her age.  
  
"I'll ask Lucius when I seem him," she muttered to herself, punching the air.  
  
After Dawn finished stretching, she sat down in front of the large mirror and rested her head in her palms. What now? she thought, surveying her reflection idly. It's only 12:15—I still have another forty-five minutes to kill.  
  
Dawn sat for a few minutes, daydreaming about nothing in particular. Then the blissful silence was broken by the creak of her door opening. She started and jumped up, letting out her breath when she saw it was only a house-elf. It was wearing an old pillow case with the arm and neck holes ripped at the seam. Upon seeing Dawn, it bowed very low, then spoke in a high voice. Dawn suspected it might be female.  
  
"I is sorry to have disturbed you, Miss," she said, straightening. "I is only wanting to clear away the dishes."  
  
"You don't have to apologize," said Dawn as the house-elf gathered the tray.  
  
"Miss is very kind," said the house-elf, bending again.  
  
"Please don't bow," Dawn murmured. "I'm not used to all this sudden luxury yet."  
  
"Ah. I is remembering now that you is joining Master only yesterday, Miss," said the house-elf, sapphire tennis-ball eyes widening. "I is hearing you is the youngest Death Eater ever. I is also hearing you mastered Master's mark and the Curses in one training session."  
  
"News travels fast in this place," observed Dawn. The house-elf bowed her head.  
  
"I is sorry if I offended you, Miss."  
  
"You didn't," said Dawn hurriedly. "Er- what's your name?"  
  
"Crescent, Miss," she replied. "I is very honored Master has assigned me to you. I is hearing—"  
  
Crescent stopped, then took the bowl off the tray and started hitting herself on the head with it—hard.  
  
"Oh, please, Crescent, stop that!" cried Dawn, jumping forward and grabbing Crescent's wrist. Crescent looked up at her through rueful eyes.  
  
"I must, Miss," she said. "I is not being a good house-elf if I tell the things my master wants kept quiet. I will keep his silence, but Miss will find out from Master. Miss will find out if she works extra hard at the next training session."  
  
"So, if I manage to do all the dueling and transfiguring stuff, he'll tell me?"  
  
Crescent nodded. Dawn placed the bowl back on the tray.  
  
"Thanks, Crescent," said Dawn. Looking at the clock, she saw that it was 12:55. "I'd better get going."  
  
"Good-bye, Miss," called Crescent as Dawn turned to head towards the gruesome place where her training was held. "I hopes you do well!"  
  
"Me, too," murmured Dawn, ambling down the stairs and into her training room. Lucius was already there.  
  
"Hey," she said, yawning. "So what're we doing today?"  
  
"Dueling skills," answered Lucius. "When you've perfected them, we'll move on to transfiguring yourself."  
  
"Oh, I've been able to do that forever," said Dawn. "Watch."  
  
She stuffed her wand in her pocket and muttered a short spell under her breath. A rush of imploding air followed, and the next instant, a large snow leaopard crouched where Dawn had been standing.  
  
"Amazing," said Lucius. "You never told me you were an animagus. How—?"  
  
The snow leopard vanished, replaced by Dawn, who shrugged. "I was bored."  
  
"Amazing," Lucius said again. "It seems we can skip the transfiguring part."  
  
"No more talk," said Dawn suddenly. "I haven't dueled for ages; my skills need oiling."  
  
Lucius and Dawn spent the next hour-and-a-half dodging spells, curses, and charms, cornering the other, then having to back up to avoid being hit with the Stunning Charm. Lucius, to say the least, was awed at how quickly Dawn moved and adjusted to any situation without even the slightest pause. He also marveled at the myriad of magical knowledge Dawn had; she never uses the same curse, spell, or charm twice.  
  
"I get the feeling you'll never cease to amaze me," said Lucius, collapsing and leaning against a wall. "Where did you learn all of those?"  
  
"The moves or the spells?"  
  
"Both."  
  
"I took fencing when I was six," Dawn said, sitting down next to Lucius and yawning. "When I found out about dueling, I tuned some of the moves I learned. As for the spells; my tutor, I guess you would call her that, used to take me to Diagon Alley with her on weekends. I spent a lot of time in Flourish and Blott's."  
  
"Ah," said Lucius. Dawn thought she could see a grin under his mask. "Lord Voldemort will be please; he may even give you a test."  
  
"Soon, I hope." Dawn yawned again. "Am I finished with the training?"  
  
"Yes," said Lucius. "Just make sure to practice your skills so you don't rust up."  
  
"'Kay," said Dawn, stretching a little as she stood up. "Thanks, Lucius. See ya 'round."  
  
"Yeah," he said, standing. Dawn grinned a little, then strode out of the space she referred to as "the training room." She bounded up the long staircase, turned at the landing, and flung herself into her room, pulling out a pencil and a sketching pad out of her trunk. Dawn bit the end of the pencil lightly as she reclined on the feathery pillow on her bed, thinking. She flipped through the first couple of sketches in the pad, which were all scenes in Diagon Alley; a couple of kids playing around, the long line at Flourish and Blott's to see that dumb blonde fool, Gilderoy Lockheart, and a messy-haired kid staring in the window of the Quidditch supply store, gazing at the Firebolt display. These sketches were quite old; the kid and the Firebolt had been drawn two years ago, when Dawn had been thirteen.  
  
Smiling, Dawn flipped to a blank page, thought for a moment, then started to sketch Lucius and her dueling. In the drawing, Lucius's cloak flapped dramatically around him as he shot a jagged beam at Dawn, who dodged it, suspended in mid-air, her hair whipping to one side. Dawn signed and dated it, then stuffed the pad and pencil back into her trunk. She leaned further back into the pillows and closed her eyes, exhausted from all the exercise.  
  
Dawn must have drifted into sleep, for the next thing she knew, a small hand was shaking her lightly awake. She opened her eyes lazily.  
  
"Huh? Wha—"  
  
"Crescent is sorry to was you, Miss, but Master is wanting a word with you," a voice squeaked. Dawn bolted upright, awake instantly.  
  
"Voldemort wants to see me?" she exclaimed. Crescent nodded fervently, her bat-like ears flapping.  
  
"Yes, Miss. I can guide Miss to him, if Miss likes."  
  
"Yes, please do," Dawn said breathlessly, jumping out of bed. Crescent hurriedly led Dawn down the staircase and through a dizzying maze of hallways. The whole time, Dawn raked her fingers through her hair absently, wondering what the Dark Lord would say.  
  
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Crescent stopped in front of a large, dark red door. She knocked softly, and the door opened a crack. Turning to Dawn, Crescent bowed. "Crescent wishes Miss good luck," she said, and scurried off down the corridor.  
  
"Thanks, Crescent," murmured Dawn, and she stepped inside the room. 


	4. The Test

As soon as the door closed behind her, Dawn heard someone yell, "Crucio!"  
  
She fell to a kneeling position, a growling scream building up in her throat. Hundreds of thousands of white hot, invisible needles were piercing every inch of her body while invisible knives sliced through her bones. The scream let loose; Dawn fell to the ground and barely had enough breath left to utter the spell that transformed her into the snow leopard.  
  
Dawn bared gleaming white fangs and pounced on the figure standing in front of her. As he hit the ground, his wand flew out of his hand. Dawn pinned his wrists to the ground with her gigantic forepaws and lowered her muzzle an inch away from the masked face, growling deeply.  
  
"That's enough, Dawn," said the voice of her master. Dawn looked around and spotted Voldemort across the room. His arms were crossed, and he was smiling. Dawn involuntarily shuddered.  
  
"I must say," continued Voldemort as Dawn transformed back into her regular self, "that was a most interesting response. Most would lie there screaming."  
  
"I guess it's my reflexes," Dawn said shyly.  
  
"Your reflexes would be useful if you were to spy for me," Voldemort said. "I've been perusing an idea for a while, debating whether or not to do it. From what Lucius has told me about your training, and the demonstration just now, I've decided to follow through with it."  
  
"Sir?" asked Dawn, her mouth dry. What was he going to ask her to do?  
  
"I want you to attend Hogwarts and spy for me there," said Voldemort. Dawn's heart skipped a beat.  
  
"Hogwarts?" Dawn repeated. "Spy at Hogwarts… I will."  
  
"Wonderful," hissed Voldemort. "Term there starts in less than a month. In a week, Lucius will take you to Diagon Alley to purchase your school supplies. You will also buy these items with which you will send weekly messages to me."  
  
Voldemort handed Dawn a list. She stuffed it in her pocket and continued listening to her master for another half hour.  
  
"Get close to Potter," instructed Voldemort. "Find out his strong points, and most importantly, his weak points.  
  
"Also get close to Dumbledore. Try to find out his plans to stop me. If Dumbledore is suspicious of you, which is more than likely to happen, you may spy on him by using the Invisibility Cloak I will equip you with. But before you use the cloak, you must get a special map of the school Potter has. Wormtail tells me that it shows persons whether invisible or not. Sneak into his dormitory one night and steal the map. Then you can use the cloak without fear of getting caught."  
  
Trying to remember all of this information, Dawn made her way back to her room, collapsing on her bed.  
  
Despite the weight of information storing itself in her mind, Dawn felt lighter than air. She was going to Hogwarts, where she'd be among people her own age of her own kind for the first time in her life. Dawn wanted to jump around in circles, scream, giggle, anything.  
  
Luckily, Dawn contained herself, because just then, there was a knock on the door.  
  
"Come in," chimed Dawn. The door opened, revealing Crescent. She was holding a thick envelope that was brimming with paper. Crescent bowed, then hurried over to Dawn's bedside, depositing the envelope on the nightstand.  
  
"Congratulations on passing the Test, Miss!" squeaked Crescent, her eyes glowing.  
  
"It that what that was?" said Dawn. "Well, good, because for a moment there, I thought they'd gone completely insane… What's that, Crescent?"  
  
"It's Miss's folder," said Crescent. "Master would like Miss to study what's inside because it'll help Miss on her future assignment."  
  
"Thanks, Crescent," said Dawn, picking up the envelope. "I'll get right to it."  
  
"You're welcome, Miss," answered Crescent. Bowing, she turned and left Dawn to studying her folder.  
  
Dawn's folder contained all sorts of information that would help her at Hogwarts; where Dumbledore's office was, a map of the house-elf passageways, who to be cautious around, etc.  
  
There was also the list of things for Dawn to buy at Diagon Alley so she could send her reports to Voldemort: an owl, extra parchment, ink that coded and decoded whatever you wrote, and special envelopes that wouldn't let anyone but the person receiving the letter open them.  
  
Dawn sighed, brushed her hair behind her ears, and began trying to memorize the house-elf passageways, just in case she lost the map.  
  
Before she knew it, the old clock in her room was chiming one…two…three…four…five…six times. Dawn shoved all the papers back into her folder, dropped it onto her nightstand, and stretched. A few seconds later, someone knocked softly on the door, then Crescent came in. She was carrying a tray laden with a coup of soup, crackers, bread rolls, silverware, and pumpkin juice.  
  
"Thanks, Crescent," said Dawn as the elf set the tray carefully on her nightstand. "I was starving."  
  
"Miss is welcome," squeaked Crescent, bowing. "Now, if Miss doesn't mind, Crescent must get back to her other duties."  
  
"Bye, Crescent," called Dawn as she left, shutting the oaken door behind her. Sighing, Dawn sat back down on her bed, placed the tray in her lap, and began to eat. 


	5. Acceptance

A week later, Dawn had nearly memorized all of the information in her folder. She was working on memorizing the complicated maze of house-elf corridors when Crescent came bounding in, clutching an envelope.  
  
"Crescent is sorry for barging in," she said hurriedly, bowing. Dawn waved her hand dismissively.  
  
"It's okay," she said. "What've you got there?"  
  
"Miss's acceptance note!" squealed Crescent.  
  
"To Hogwarts?"  
  
"Yes, Miss!" exclaimed Crescent, handing Dawn the note.  
  
"Oh, wow," breathed Dawn. On the front of the envelope was Dawn's address, written in shimmering emerald ink:  
  
Ms. Dawn Sundance  
  
East Wing  
  
Malfoy Manor  
  
"How—?"  
  
"Mister Malfoy wrote to Dumbledore telling him you lived at the Malfoy Manor," said Crescent. "He just brought the envelope over."  
  
"Oh." Shaking slightly with suppressed happiness, Dawn turned over the envelope, slit open the wax seal with her finger, and pulled out the letter.  
  
Dear Ms. Sundance,  
  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a list of items all fifth years will require. Term starts on September 1st; your train ticket is also enclosed.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Professor M. McGonagall  
  
Deputy Headmistress  
  
"Thanks, Crescent," said Dawn, dazed.  
  
"Miss is welcome," replied Crescent, bowing and leaving. Dawn reread her letter over and over again, to make sure she wasn't dreaming. When she was satisfied, Dawn laid the acceptance note carefully on her nightstand and took out her list of supplies.  
  
UNIFORM  
  
Fifth-year students will require:  
  
1.Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
  
2.One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
  
3.One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
  
4.One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)  
  
5.One dress robe (for formal occasions)  
  
Please note that all pupils' clothing should carry name tags.  
  
COURSE BOOKS  
  
All students should have a copy of each of the following:  
  
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 5) by Miranda Goshawk  
  
An Advanced History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot  
  
An Advanced Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch  
  
How to Tend Magical Plants and Growths by G. Thumbe  
  
Magical Poisons and Remedies by Vene Sano  
  
Taming Magical Wild Beasts by Ferra Wylde  
  
Being Prepared by Entha Darrke  
  
Students should also refill on potions supplies, parchment stors, quills, and ink wells.  
  
"When did Lord Voldemort say I was going to go to Diagon Alley?" Dawn mused, looking up at the ceiling. Her eyes widened. "Today! Oh, I wonder if Lucius is downstairs waiting for me?"  
  
Dawn leapoed out of her bed and ran towards the door, flinging it open. She nearly trampled over Crescent in her rush.  
  
"Oh! Sorry, Crescent!" Dawn said. "I wanted to see if Lucius was downstairs--"  
  
"Master Malfoy, Miss?" squeaked Crescent, rearranging her pillow case. "Yes, Miss, he's downstairs waiting for Miss. I was sent to get Miss."  
  
"Convenient," Dawn laughed. Stuffing her two supply lists into her pocket, she followed Crescent down the flight of stairs, through a hallways and into the entranceway. 


	6. Diagon Alley

A tall man in dark green robes was standing in the hall patiently, his white-blonde hair slicked back, his cloudy blue eyes lazily studdying a dusty painting on the wall. He turned when he heard Dawn and Crescent enter, and his eyes sparkled slightly when he saw Dawn.  
  
"Lucius?"  
  
"Hello, Dawn," he grinned. "It's rare that I come here unmasked."  
  
"Quite," she replied, raising her eyebrows. "So how are we getting to Diagon Alley?"  
  
"Straight to the point, as always," laughed Lucius. "Well, first we'll be Joint Apparating to my manor. My son, Draco, goes to Hogwarts as well. He's a fifth year, like you'll be. Your belongings will be brought over while we're gone; you'll be staying with us for the remainder of the holiday. Then we'll be taking Floo Powder to Flourish and Blott's. You are okay with Floo Powder, Dawn?"  
  
"Of course. I love the stuff," she grinned. "Traveling like that is so fun."  
  
"Good," Lucius said briskly. He held out his arm to Dawn. "Hold on tightly; don't want you to get dropped off in some filthy Muggle street."  
  
She took his arm firmly, and barely had enough time to call out a hurried, "Good-bye, Crescent! I'll miss you!" before she and Lucius Disapperated.  
  
They reappeared seconds later in the huge drawing room of the Malfoys' mansion. Dawn stared around, releasing her grip on Lucius's arm. She'd never seen such luxuries before in her life.  
  
The furniture was elegantly carved out of mahogany wood, and the seats were covered in a cushiony, deep green velvet. Gauzy white curtains hung lazily in front og the huge windows, letting in a trickle of the morning light. Glass cases were placed almost randomly around the room, showing off their rare and collectable items. Portraits hung over the huge mantel of the even bigger fireplace; puzzling, abstract enigmas to Dawn.  
  
Lucius grinned, his blue eyes twinkling, seeing Dawn's astonishment. "Stay in here; I'll go fetch Draco."  
  
"Um, Lucius--"  
  
"I've told him you're a distant relation that needed a place to stay," he said, reading her mind. She grinned.  
  
"Alright," she replied, plopping down into an armchair. Lucius smiled, then turned and walked out of the cherry wood double-doors. Dawn curled up Indian-style on the armchair and spent a few minutes looking around the study.  
  
When she heard footsteps drawing nearer to the study, she jumped off the chair, rain a hand quickly through her hair to smooth it down, and straightened her robs as best she could before the doors opened. Dawn didn't want to make a bad first impression on Lucius's son.  
  
Draco Malfoy had the same white-blonde hair as his father, the same pointed chin, and the same smirk constantly tugging at the corners of his lips. His eyes, however, were a deep, thoughtful grey. Dawn, realizing she was staring, blinked and said hurriedly, "I'm--"  
  
"Dawn Sundance," interrupted Draco in a smooth, drawling voice. "I know. Father's talked of nothing else for the past few days."  
  
Lucius yanked on his son's ear as Dawn blushed--not lightly, because Dawn could see Draco wince. Chuckling softly, Lucius stated, "Now, Draco, there's no need to make her feel uncomfortable. Let's get going, shall we?"  
  
He lit a fire in the grate using his wand and pulled down and extravagantly carved box ffrom the mantel. Opening the lid, Lucius took out a pinch of the coarse powder and tossed it into the flames, instantly turning them a brilliant emerald green.  
  
"Would you prefer to go first, Dawn?" inquired Lucius graciously. Dawn grinned.  
  
"Sure." She stepped into the flames, basking in their warmness for a moment, then yelled out, "Diagon Alley!" and was gone in a whirl of green light.  
  
The Floo Poweder journey was over all too soon, but Dawn didn't have the time to miss it. She had to scramble out of the way as Draco slid out of the fireplace soon after her. He stood up, brushing soot off of his shoulders disdainfully. Dawn nearly laughed at the scowl on his face.  
  
"Don't you like traveling by Floo Powder, Draco?"  
  
"No," he spat. "It's nauseating."  
  
"I think it's quite fun. But to each his own," Dawn shrugged, brushing her hand lightly through her haird to shake out bits of ash. A soft pop announced the arrival of Lucius behind her. Turning a little to glance at him, Dawn asked, "Where to first?"  
  
"Here's as good a place to start as any," Lucius replied, glancing arouond at the shelves upon shelves of bookcases. "We can get your schoolbooks."  
  
"I'll probably end up buying more than just schoolbooks," warned Dawn good-naturedly, peering at the nearest bookcase. "I just hope I won't blow all my money........."  
  
"How about we make a second trip here after we've gotten all your school supplies?" suggested Lucius.  
  
"Sounds good to me." Dawn, with an effort, pulled herself away from the bookcase. 


End file.
